


you are the sound of my beating heart

by annejumps



Series: nerves of steel [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, BDSM, Canon Disabled Character, Charles in a Wheelchair, Dom Charles, Dom Charles and sub Erik, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, Sounding, Sub Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik could feel every molecule of the polished stainless steel, but he wasn’t allowed to move it at all. Only Charles would move it, and only when he was good and ready. First, he was going to finish his tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are the sound of my beating heart

Erik stifled a moan. 

“Erik, darling,” Charles said, casual as you please, voice underlined with that love and compassion that Erik both craved and was rankled by, “if this is too difficult for you, you don’t have to do it, you know.” 

Charles, from behind his desk, took a sip of tea, and regarded Erik, who was naked in a chair, hands tied behind his back (“There’s no point to tying me up, Charles.” “Oh yes, I know, but I like how it looks.”) and most of his attention on a narrow steel cylinder currently snugly homed in his urethra. He fixed Charles with a glare, which Charles met with a fond, beatific smile. Erik caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye, however. 

“If you can’t stand it any longer,” Charles added, in his gentle teacher voice, “you can move it. Pull it out, push it in deeper, whatever you like. Fling it across the room.”

Erik’s glare deepened. He could feel every molecule of the polished stainless steel, but he wasn’t allowed to move it at all. Charles would know if he did, and if he did, Charles would win ( _Oh, don’t think of it as me “winning,” dearest_ ). 

Only Charles would move it, and only when he was good and ready. 

First, he was going to finish his tea.

And the particular device that Charles had, damn him, was formed of small graduated beads. He’d put it in, not Erik, going at his own steady pace despite Erik’s squirming and muted gasps of desperation, as every little bump in the beading caused a reverberation over Erik’s every nerve. He’d handled Erik’s cock with gentle, proprietary expertise. 

Erik felt his face heat even now as he remembered muttering “Oh god oh god oh god” while desperately trying to stifle himself. “It’s all right, Erik,” Charles had said, “there’s only me to hear you,” but Charles also understood that Erik needed a point of focus that was not the exquisite, cool, high-grade steel slowly sliding into his urethra. They both were well aware this sort of thing would be challenging even for a baseline human, let alone Erik. 

“Just a little while longer,” Charles said, and took another sip of tea. And then the phone rang.

Charles took his damned time on the call, and Erik focused on keeping the metal perfectly still even as his body begged for him to move it. Every moment was spent on the cusp of anticipating that the metal was going to move, balanced out by Erik’s effort to keep it from doing so. He wanted to move it so badly; wanted to slide it in and out, slow, to essentially fuck himself with it. But that was for Charles to do, and Charles alone.

Erik pressed his lips together and sighed out a breath through his nose, watching Charles make some notes as he wrapped up the call. At one point, he glanced up at Erik, and held his gaze, a slow smile on his face, the look in his eyes for Erik wholly separate from the pleasantries he addressed to the caller. Erik felt his every hair stand on end, and it was a struggle to refocus his efforts toward keeping the damned steel from moving, but he managed.

Hanging up, Charles went back to his notes, seemingly writing interminably, then sipping some more tea. He marked something on his calendar, then finally, at last, drank the last of his godforsaken tea and set the cup down, licking his lips absently. Erik closed his eyes. 

Then Erik sensed Charles’ chair moving toward him. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes to watch Charles approach, the two of them more or less at the same level, with Erik sitting. Charles came to a stop directly in front of him.

“You’ve done beautifully,” he said. “Your control is exquisite. Contrary to what you may have assumed, I never once doubted your ability to do this.” Leaning forward, he reached out to lightly but securely grasp the end of the metal. Erik caught his breath, feeling the slight motion of it all through his cock. Charles waited a few beats before saying, “Let go, darling; give control over to me.”

Letting out a slow breath, Erik relinquished his mental hold on the steel, and kept from sagging in relief. To do so would be premature. After all, while he no longer had to hold the metal in place, he could still feel every bit of it, and it was Charles’ purview now….

Watching his face, Charles started to pull the steel out, with aching slowness, but of course, he only did so for a short distance before pausing and then slowly pressing it in further. He repeated the motion, still slowly, but steadily, effectively fucking Erik’s urethra with the steel, the beads sliding up and down. It was what Erik had been waiting for ever since Charles had suggested doing this.

Erik was speechless. He could only meet Charles’ gaze.

Charles gradually increased the length of the slow thrusts of the steel, watching Erik the whole time, either his face or his cock. Erik, dazed, dropped his gaze to his cock, watching the gleaming steel slide in and out.

“You aren’t supposed to come while this is in,” Charles said, almost conversational. Erik could only nod. He was starting to breathe harder, as Charles increased his speed ever so slightly. His pace was, overall, maddeningly steady; meanwhile, Erik sensed himself slowly unraveling, now that his keeping the metal still was no longer at issue. “But there’s one way you can.”

“Please, Charles,” Erik said, although he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. 

A few more leisurely thrusts of the steel. Charles was measuring his level of desperation, of need. Up, down. Up, down. 

“Shape a hole through the length of it,” Charles told him, sending him an image of what that would look like, as if he needed it.

Erik sighed, but proceeded to do as he was told. The steel displaced by the creation of the hole made the circumference of the device ever so slightly larger, something he could definitely feel. When he was done, he nodded, and Charles smiled at him in approval as he slid the metal in deeper. 

He wrapped his other hand around Erik’s cock, which by this point was nearly as hard as the steel, and began to stroke him, as slow and steady as he’d been moving the steel. The contrasting glide of the grip of Charles’ hand with the slide of the bumps of the metal inside him was making him, impossibly enough, harder. He was starting to squirm again, and to pant. Charles could tell, of course, when he was about to come. Erik started to shudder, a wordless gasp escaping his throat. 

With the steel at its deepest point, Charles started to draw it out, again slow and steady. 

The feel of each bead slipping out of him as he came, the drag at each bump, was like nothing Erik had ever felt. It drew out his peak in both senses of the term. Erik leaned back to press against the chair, thighs instinctively spreading as much as Charles’ chair would allow as his hips tilted upward in an attempt to chase the sensation. 

He sensed the last bead and the end of the steel coming; as he watched it, he felt keenly the last bump and the complete removal of the steel from his body, now slick with his come, as was his cock, as was Charles’ hand. Erik drummed his heels on the floor in mild agitation at the rush of sensation and its sudden abatement, which left him lightheaded. 

He felt Charles listening in on the pleasure that had flooded his mind, felt Charles’ sheer delight in him with its underlying bittersweet edge.

As Erik sat dazed and attempted to catch his breath, Charles cleaned him up with a handkerchief, and then untied him, every touch of his hands both sure and tender. Before Erik stood, Charles pulled him in to kiss him, just a brief but firm press of lips, all that was necessary. 

Legs shaky, Erik more or less collapsed on the nearby couch, stretching out on his front on the blanket spread there. Not long after, he sensed Charles rolling up alongside him, then felt Charles’ hand stroking through his slightly sweat-damp hair. 

"How was that for you, my darling,” Charles said, voice quiet and intimate. 

“You know how it was,” Erik answered, voice muffled. 

Charles waited. Erik turned over, looked at him for a long moment, and kissed his palm. “It was perfection. Thank you, Charles,” he said, low and sincere. 

Fingertips trailing down his neck, Charles smiled at him, that mysterious little fond smile Erik thought of as his and his alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after I saw a comment elsewhere remarking on how there needs to be more sounding fic in fandom. I pictured an AU young!Charles and young!Erik (and after some thought, have tagged it as a modern powered AU), but I think you could easily visualize a younger Erik and an older Charles.  
> Thank you, [fruityshirts](http://fruityshirts.tumblr.com/), for the technical beta!


End file.
